


A King & His Knight

by Bellflower



Category: Shin Sangokumusou | Dynasty Warriors
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasizing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 21:56:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18536248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellflower/pseuds/Bellflower
Summary: It's a passing idle fantasy, a foolish one, but as Zhong Hui's gaze lingers on the image of 'A King & His Knight' he fancies he can see himself in the same position; he's the King, of course, sparkling crown on his brow, and kneeling at his side is the loyal warrior in plate-armour, helmet tipped back so the face can be seen.Not all of it, of course. Just the smile.





	A King & His Knight

**Author's Note:**

> For Tatz, who I explicitly wrote this for because they love this ship and are easy to tease. For you I overcome my shyness over posting this!

It's a passing idle fantasy, a foolish one, but as Zhong Hui's gaze lingers on the image of ' _A King & His Knight_' he fancies he can see himself in the same position; he's the King, of course, sparkling crown on his brow, and kneeling at his side is the loyal warrior in plate-armour, helmet tipped back so the face can be seen.

Not all of it, of course. Just the smile.

Jia Chong invading his fantasies again, seeping in and making a place for himself in the thoughts of a precocious man who can't yet admit quite why such a person should fascinate him... and why he should twist the fantasies in such an obvious way, turning them from displays of power and intellect into romantic ones Zhong Hui could never, ever admit to.

The loyal knight reaches to take his King's hand and kisses it, gaze raised, smile still present, almost mocking but nonetheless sincere as he waits for a reaction; on cue Zhong Hui inhales sharply and looks away from the painting. A waste of time, a foolish train of thoughts... yet they come to him again that night.

This time, though, the fantasy is coated in something hotter, something heavier.

His actual bed is the finest cotton, with carving in the headboard and plenty of space, but it's nothing compared to the bedchamber of the King he imagines himself as; _that_ is filled with silk and glints of gold, the most luxurious curtains hanging from the exquisite bed's dome.

He sits there at its edge, still crowned, while his smiling knight looks up at him with dark, amused eyes. Jia Chong, here, is still clad in his plate armour while he kneels, and there's a plain sword at his side that's taken more lives in defense of his liege than said liege could ever know. One small reminder amongst many that he's a dangerous man.

The dangerous man takes his King's hands, and still holding his gaze, removes the white gloves from them. Drops them to the floor. Takes the hands again so Zhong Hui can feel the texture of the thick gloves that prevent any warmth from leaking through. If he didn't know any better he might even guess that said hands were really cold.

It'd suit a Knight as steel as Jia Chong is. Cold and ice, a practical kind, warmed by drops of blood. Isn't the thought chilling? The real Zhong Hui tightens his sheets around him, because as chilling as it is, it also sends an obvious surge of warmth through his body. Annoying... but he can't help the allure of his fantasy and so slips a hand between his own legs, letting his thoughts drift further.

The Knight kisses both hands, one by one, letting his teeth drag across his King's skin each time. Then he rises and in an act of pure subordination pushes Zhong Hui, the crowned majesty Zhong Hui, a being who should be worshipped, right down on the bed. Joins him there a moment after, still clad in armour, sat up on his knees; the metal presses against Zhong Hui's sides and he huffs, annoyed, but aroused as well.

This is everything he shouldn't want, but does.

(And, adds the Zhong Hui left to cotton rather than silk, really stupid; letting a man onto a bed in all that armour... what, exactly, can he do with that? Why is the thought attractive, anyway? He's slowly stroking himself as he ponders this, because of course he is).

"What will you do now?" Jia Chong is smiling... no, it's definitely a smirk now; he removes his helmet and throws it to the floor revealing attractively mussed hair. "This was a very foolish mistake."

"You are sworn to your King." Zhong Hui is doing a very good job at sounding firm and in charge, and of course he does, it's his own fantasy, but then again... there's a tremble there, too, something slightly vulnerable and wanting. "Service him."

Best not to think too hard on what that says about himself. Jia Chong looks down, and... is that a leer? Something close to it, certainly. He reaches down and does something close to sacriligeous; he plucks the crown from Zhong Hui's head and tosses it aside, like it were nothing more than a pointless bauble.

Then he lowers himself down a little, shifts, and--

Opening his eyes wide into the dark, actual Zhong Hui stares into darkness and bites his lip, stroking a little faster, a littler firmer. This was stupid. What a pointless, unlikely fantasy! But said fantasy continues anyway, shifting quickly through scene after scene. 

Jia Chong's armour is eventually shed, but not the clothes underneath. The gauntlets are kept on too. This cold and deadly knight knows exactly how to 'service' his King in the way the King likes best, and it's not in the way Zhong Hui had implied. At least not this time. No... the Knight is the true liege here, in this locked room, hidden away from the eyes of the kingdom.

It's a whole lot of 'not enough' for a good long while, bringing Zhong Hui to the edge but never letting him get there. This through nothing more than the right kind of grinding or the right kind of touch. Sometimes it's even the cool of metal against his skin and occasionally his dick, which shouldn't make it harden further, but does.

Eventually the King is a hot mess; sweaty skin, flushed cheeks, somehow both defiant and pleading in tone as he presses his face into his sheets and mutters under his breath. There are gloved fingers buried inside him despite the oil being spread already. Another tease, of course. So the majestic Zhong Hui finally spits his frustration.

"Just... fuck me already!"

So crass a thing from someone like himself, and it obviously amuses the Knight, because he chuckles lightly.

"As my King wishes."

Jia Chong removes his fingers and very quickly, without anymore delay, presses himself inside instead. The pace is instantly fast, a contrast to the slow teasing Zhong Hui's been both enduring and revelling in, and for that very reason both the fantasy and the reality versions of himself come hard a very short time after it begins.

Silk is ruined in his head, and beneath him, the cotton is stained with the mess seeping through his own fingers. But Zhong Hui is satisfied, despite feeling he shouldn't be. And he knows this will be in his thoughts again soon.

His treacherous mind would bring it back up the next time he so much as looked Jia Chong in the eye.


End file.
